


The 'R' Word

by Pearly_Pornography



Series: Pearly's Preklok Fics [19]
Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Ableism, Autism, F/M, Mom Fights, Preklok, Slurs, pta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-18 17:18:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11295171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pearly_Pornography/pseuds/Pearly_Pornography
Summary: A tale of suburban cutthroatery.





	The 'R' Word

"Nathan!"

Rose dashed towards her son, who had a bar of soap wedged in his mouth. "You can't eat that!" An enormous mark had already been made by his teeth, but the damage wasn't enough to require a hospital visit, thank god.

"I can eat it."

"No, you can't, Nathan."

"I just did."

Rose blinked.

"Well, yes..." She sighed. "But you shouldn't! It's bad for you!"

"Okay." Nathan yawned, standing up. "Can I nap."

"Well of course, you don't need to ask me. I need to go out but I'll be back to make dinner, okay?"

"See ya."

"I love you, sweetie!"

"Wait, 'fore you go."

Rose paused in the doorway. Nathan stared at her. "What's a 'twat'?"

"...Sweetie. Where- where did you hear that?"

"George Carlo."

"It's Carlin, honey, was your father letting you watch his George Carlin tapes again?"

"Yeah. What's a twat and why can't I say it?"

"Listen, can you go ask your father?"

"But dad probably doesn't know."

"I can assure you he does. I'll be back soon, okay? Bye!" Rose skittered out the door, not wanting to continue that conversation. She'd have to give Oscar a real talking-to about what Nathan could and couldn't watch.

"Honey." Oscar was in the kitchen. "Where's the pork rinds?"

"I hid them so you wouldn't eat them all. This is a rind-loving family and they're not all for you, dear." Her arm slid into a sleeve of her jacket. Though Florida was normally warm and sunny, today was a bit of a cold one. "Later you and I need to talk about Nathan's television... restrictions."

"Let the kid live a little, hon."

"Look, we'll talk about this later, okay?"

"...Right."

And with that, she was off.

-

Helen Baxter was head of the PTA, and frankly, Rose never understood why. Well, she understood why; Helen was rich and everyone loved benefits, but she was also, frankly, a bit of a stuck-up bitch. It made Rose's skin crawl, sometimes, the way Helen got away with degrading people. But there was little Rose could do. Every other mom in nearby Port St. Lucie adored her and her perfect, slightly robotic children, and her masculine cardboard plank of a husband. And there was no more to say about it.

The meeting was at her somewhat vast home. Rose was tempted to call it a mansion, though it really only counted as one by dinky suburban standards. It wasn't even a PTA meeting, as much as it was a motherly gossip meeting. After all, there were no teachers around. She stepped in, and Carol Warwick greeted her at the door.

"So nice to see you, Rose."

"Nice to see you too!"

"We have lemon squares, brownies, tea, teacakes..." Same old, same old. Rose grew tired of Sharon Hayward's somewhat concrete-esque brownies. That woman simply couldn't bake. Rose herself had no business wasting time and money on treats for people she barely even liked. "Did you hear about the murder over in Texas? Some crazy man killed his wife and then himself."

"Oh dear." Carol was always bad at making conversation.

"Their son is alright, though. Billy, or something."

"...Well, how's the kids?"

"They're great. Merribeth is excelling in her piano classes and Howard's gotten into Yale, just like he wanted."

"Hello, Rose!" As she entered the living room, she could see every mother in town. Helen stood, running over to kiss Rose on both cheeks the way they did in Europe. (An obnoxious habit she'd picked up after a trip to Italy.) "I'm so glad you could come. It wouldn't be the same without you."

"Thank you! I'm glad I could make it. I was worried I'd have to drive Nathan off after seeing him eating soap in the living room."

"...Why was your son eating soap?"

"Oh, he tells me he likes the way it tastes. I have to protect him from himself or else nobody will, you know?"

Uncomfortable laughter filled the room. So murder-suicide is a good conversation topic, but not soap eating, apparently. "How is Jessica doing?"

"She's just lovely. She's out with her little friends for the day." Helen poured herself a cup of tea, stirring some sugar in it. "You know, Rose, you'd ought to have your son looked at by a neurologist. For his own good."

"A neurologist?" Rose quirked a brow.

"Yes. To have his IQ checked." Meredith Geller called from the corner of the room, where she always sat. "Your boy said some terrible things to Sharon's little one last week. I'm surprised you didn't hear about it." 

"Well, you know, him and Brett have their spats now and then. That's just boys being boys."

"He called my son a twat, Rose!" Sharon's voice was as ear-splitting as ever.

"...Oh." Rose pinched the bridge of her nose. "I'm sorry, that's not his fault. He's very impressionable and I think... Uh, I think Oscar's been letting him watch his comedy tapes. You know Oscar, he loves that stuff, and--"

"He should know better than to repeat what he hears on television."

"Yes, I know, I'm going to talk to him about it when I go home."

"I don't think he'll..." Carla West threw up her hands. "...you know, get it."

"He's a smart young man."

"Please, Rose." Helen took a sip of her Earl Grey. "We all know Nathaniel was a little behind in the developmental department."

"It took him awhile to talk, yeah, and he's--"

"We fear your son might be a retard."

Rose blinked.

"And you know how violent they can get!" Meredith was making frantic hand motions. "You know, I used to live near one of those autistic kids. His inconsiderate flailing nearly broke my poor Scott's nose in half."

"My daughter tells me she sees Nathaniel chewing on his hair and pencils."

"I hear he repeats nearly everything he says. Like a freakish echo."

"He has no idea what he's doing. Can't do math or remember anything. Jessica tells me he barely even knows how to read."

"My son Leo tells me that he uses the bathroom with the door open. And he never stops talking about Norse mythology."

"When he gets angry, he won't even talk at all."

"He's clearly retarded."

"It must be so hard for you and Oscar."

"I can't imagine what it must be like for you."

She was completely awestruck. "Rose? Rose, it's okay to cry."

Of course it would've been easy to spit directly in Barbara Wiles' goddamn face. But Rose bit back the urge to do so. "It's not your fault." Damn right it wasn't, and it wasn't Nathan's fault, either! Rose could feel the blood boil in her veins. But she didn't strike, she didn't even speak for a moment.

"...I see." 

"I'm so sorry. I've made our luncheon awkward."

"Ah, no, it's... it's alright." 

It wasn't alright at all.

-

"Sweetie, I'm home."

The door swung open as she re-entered. Oscar was standing in the kitchen, staring at the oven. "Honey?"

"Yes, sugarlumps." He didn't take his eyes off of the oven door. "How was the meeting?"

"Terrible. I need to speak with you a second, dear."

"Just give me a minute, the chicken's almost done."

"And not in front of Nathan." She paused. "Not over dinner."

"Wow. This is either really serious, or someone said you were bad in bed." He snickered, pulling the roast bird out of the oven and sitting it on the countertop. "What's the matter, huh? Helen insult your cooking?"

"She insulted my _son._ "

"...Ah."

"And so did the rest of them."

"What'd they say?"

"They called him a--" She paused. "You know, the 'r' word."

"Redneck?"

"No, dear." 

"...Rimjob."

"No, Oscar! You know..." Oscar blinked. Rose lowered her voice. "They called him an R-E-T-A-R-D, dear."

"Oh. Oh! Did- did you start a fight?"

"No, not yet."

"...Rose, sweetie."

"Nobody says anything like that about my son and gets off scot-free."

"Dear..."

"You go out for drinks with the local men, don't you?"

Oscar sighed. Rose's mouth coiled into a devilish grin.

"Yes."

"Well it's no harm telling me everything you know." She snickered. "Settle it like my mother used to do in Winter Haven."

"And you say I'm a bad influence."

"This is my son's integrity on the line." She rose up a hand. "I told him I'd always be here for him and I won't let anyone slur at him like that. Especially not that two-faced wrinkled old bat Helen Baxter. You understand, don't you?"

"...You're very serious about this, aren't you."

"I'm as serious as I am Nathan's mother."

A pause.

"God, I love you." Oscar pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Alright, I'll cooperate with your weird James Bond espionage thing."

"You're too good to me."

-

"Well thank you for inviting us over, Rose. Even on such short notice."

"Of course." Rose smiled. She had done years of acting classes. "Would you like anything to drink?" Obviously, the ladies occasionally side-eyed Nathan. He hated being away from mama when she was around. Sometimes, even when she wasn't. "Nathan, do you want anything?"

"Or'nge juice." 

"Oh, no." Sharon folded her hands. "I don't need anything."

"Yes, I think we're alright."

"Oh, it's okay. Nathan hasn't poisoned our water supply, have you, Nathan?"

"I dunno how." He grabbed a juice box from the counter in the nearby kitchen, chewing on it a little. "Mm."

"Why don't you go help your father? He's out in the yard mowing the lawn. Try making a pile out of the grass blades, why don't you?" Nathan nodded, tipping the chewed-open box into his mouth and chugging the contents. "He's just a dear, isn't he?"

"...Are you sure he should go near a lawnmower?" Helen looked confused.

"No need to worry. He doesn't put his feet anywhere besides his shoes." Rose laughed. "You know. Just like your husband doesn't-- Oh, excuse me." 

Silence washed over the group of mothers. "...What?"

"What were you going to say."

"You know. Your husband."

"But- but what about him."

"Don't we all already know the answer to that?"

"Rose." Helen stared intensely. "You'd ought to _watch your words_ , you know."

"I mean, I'd cheat if I was being cheated on." Another silence. "I hope he's good enough for Meredith, though."

Helen's head swung towards Meredith so fast, Rose swore she heard her neck crack. Meredith shrunk back into her chair. "I'd be embarrassed too." Rose shrugged. "Not as embarrassed as Carol though. I hear Howard doesn't even have a proper job, let alone getting accepted at Yale."

"Rose!" Carol appeared flustered.

"I hope his failing music career goes well. Better than Brett's failing grades, right, Sharon?" It was like watching a tower crumble. "I heard Carla's son sneaks him out of school when he's supposed to be at tutoring. Maybe that's why."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Carla blurted. Sharon stood up.

"I always knew your son was a deviant!"

"And Barb." Rose paused. "Is it true little Anthony huffs paint with some of his underclassmen, or am I just getting wrong information?"

"So that's why my poor Leo keeps coming home all dizzy!" Elizabeth Brown just barely seemed to hold back from flying out of her chair. "Your son is a deviant too!" Barbara backed away, running out the front door before Elizabeth could bludgeon her with her 20-pound shoulderbag.

"...Say, aren't these brownies a little dry?" Rose shrugged. "A bit too solid. Like cement."

Swears were flying across the room as Rose stirred her coffee. "You know, Nathan doesn't like when it gets loud in the house. Is it possible for you ladies to take care of this elsewhere?"

"Rose." Helen stared at her, grasping her collar. Rose showed no signs of fear. "What is the matter with you. And how do you know this stuff."

"I'll go to any length it takes to protect my son's name." Silence fell over. "Now get you and your crusty-ass brownies out of my goddamn house!" Slowly, the ladies collected themselves. Rose sat cross-legged in her favorite chair, sipping a double-espresso from a small cup and watching them slowly file out. "And if I hear you say anything more about him, I'll fuck your husband next, Helen!" Helen flinched, shuffling out the door behind the rest.

Silence.

Catharsis.

She grinned almost maniacally, leaning back in her seat.

"You're not actually gonna screw Helen's husband, are you." She shot up, turning towards the backyard door. Oscar and Nathan were standing there. 

"No, but I'll say I did."

"What's a fuck."

"Nathaniel, don't say that word, mommy had an outburst."

"...Sorry."

"Do you want to go out for ice cream, honey?"

"Uh-huh." He cracked a tiny smile -- and that was the first time Rose had seen him smile at all.


End file.
